


A King Beside You Somehow

by Suchsmallhands



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 400's, 500's, ;), Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Baker Harry, English royalty, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Light Angst, M/M, Middle Ages, One Shot, Prince Louis, Royalty, Star-crossed, eighteen and sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchsmallhands/pseuds/Suchsmallhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a brave and untested prince who still wants to pass his nights as happy ones beside the most royal boy he knows.<br/>-<br/><em>There were safer places to meet Harry but there may not be any so beautiful. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	A King Beside You Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm not sure what this is. I just wrote it and I'm putting it out here for everyone else to enjoy in this fandom, because that's what we're here for. So, enjoy this. :) It's just a one shot and I've been writing strangely lately. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Please feel free to comment, I love comments._

Louis' heart beat harder as he stepped quietly as he could on bare feet through the corridor. This was the palace he'd grown up inside of, he knew every turn. He knew the quiet halls which were safest, the ones on the perimeter with the arched and open windows through which he could look out and see the full moon shining and the guards in the yard below standing silently as they watched over him and his family.  
As afraid as he was, the torches casting quivering, warm light over his face, he felt the spirited excitement in him. He felt his heart, galloping and that energy of happiness that kicked in his chest like an untrained colt. He could feel the cool air from the open windows flowing through the hall and he pattered as quickly as he could. His loose, white shirt fluttered with his haste, untucked from his trousers.  
He turned a few more corners, even hiding expertly from a passing night watch strolling through the halls. It made him feel worthy of his escapade, far more clever than his guards. He was no longer intimidated by them, in their chain link armor and helmets. Not like when he was younger. He was training to be a knight now.  
He stopped at the threshold of a doorway, peeking around the corner and ensuring he was safe before he entered. Stepping inside, the low ceilings of the previous hall opened up into an arched chamber so spacious that the ceiling seemed to fade into the darkness.  
The stone was white. Washed white, as if by holy prayers of the priests. Where he stood, just in front of him was a stone rail, saving from a drop down many, many yards to the stone floor of the castle. If he looked over the rail, he could see all the way to the first floor of the castle, and above he could see no more floors but only the arched ceiling which perhaps harbored a pigeon or dove. On the right and left the walkway circled around the square of open space in the middle until it met across the gap on the other side. There, behind the noble pillars which stood so heavy and strong, bracketing the railing, was a small walkway. He turned to the right, walking to the corner and turning with his hand on a pillar, sliding around it and walking to the back of the open chamber. Walking under a small archway, he turned to the walkway.  
Here, on the highest floor, this was where he'd seen priests and his mother and father pray or talk. It was a narrow little strip of stone, separated from the cavernous open space by a stone railing which was carved with the patterns which themed so much of the castle. The most beautiful part of it all, however, at the end of the chamber was the stained glass windows. They arched so high up the wall that he had to tip his head back to see. The moonlight flowed milky and airy through the glass, casting patches of shaded color on the white stone around him.  
There were safer places to meet Harry but there may not be any so beautiful.  
He leaned against the heavy stone behind him, looking up at the way the moonlight smoothed through the glass. He looked at the formation of the colors, the mosaic that they created. It was a bird, somehow innocent and righteous, heralded by gold light.  
He heard a shuffle to his right. Leaping from the rail he gasped, turning with wide eyes to the source. His muscles relaxed, a welcoming smile changing his face.  
"Louis." Harry whispered, one hand holding him to the pillar at the end of the way. His curls were down, soft and disheveled around his neck. He met Louis' eyes with wide and youthful innocence.  
"Harry." Louis smiled, stepping forward and standing closer. Harry swallowed, smiling a gentle thing. He was more wary than his prince. "You came."  
He nodded and Louis, with all of his careless bravery became less rash now. Yet still, Harry was his best friend and things always came naturally even when the air around them felt impactful.  
He reached forward, touching Harry's hand where it rested on the great pillar holding up this castle. His touch was warm and his hand broke softly against his skin. Harry took his, letting Louis wrap his fingers around his palm.  
He pulled Harry forward until he stepped into his warmth, having to lift his chin just a bit to face him.  
"I wanted to see you alone." He whispered, lifting a hand to rest on his waist. In one touch it felt so sensitive and personal, but natural. "Here."  
"You're so dramatic, Lou." He smiled, his dimples appearing as he giggled under his breath. Louis smiled widely, to see him breaking from his nervousness.  
"S'not dramatic... I just know how much you like pretty things... That's all." He mumbled, his tongue rolling over accented speech.  
"I like you." Harry mumbled, his carefree smile falling a bit. He was affected by it, wanting for them to be careless here together. Like they were in the day, when they played in the halls and gardens. When Louis would sneak away from his duties and steal Harry away from his own, in the palace kitchens.  
"That's alright." Louis murmured, his smile falling in sincerity. They hadn't spoken much about the closeness of their friendship. But Louis was no fool and neither was he a liar, to himself or Harry. The feeling was different than it should be.  
"What if we're caught out here?" Harry looked down, his cheeks seeming rosy with blush. Louis' chest tightened with his words, with his insinuation that they were more than just kids sneaking out past curfew. He sometimes didn't confront that. That if they were seen, it may be as more than simple friendly mischief.  
"We won't be." Louis' mouth hardened with strength, showing him that there wasn't anything to be afraid of. "We'd hear anyone long before they got here, everything echos in here. Besides, I'm not afraid of father. Even if he found out about... what we've done."  
Kiss. Once. His thoughts still flashed to the pounding of his heart over the softness of his lips.  
"You're the only one, my lord." Harry murmured, giving him that look that was serious and imploring. Louis disliked it, the way it held his attention. He was eighteen, Harry was sixteen, they shouldn't be so serious about this.  
"You know I don't like it when you use that...name." He mumbled. Friends from when he was nine years old didn't have lordship over each other, Harry knew that.  
"I just... I know you're brave. Really brave and all, but you know that you have less to fear of the king than I do. We're not kids anymore. I worry about you. And us." Louis' thoughts stretched down the line, to the kingdom that waited and the kingship that weighted on him. On the life he was heading towards. He wasn't afraid. Not of losing him. He wouldn't, not his friend. No one would take him from him. Harry's words were making him feel sick, regardless.  
"I just want to see you tonight." He swallowed down the unrest in his stomach, looking down at his hand on his waist. "No one's going to be thrown in the stocks for breaking curfew with a friend." The words felt like medicine in his mouth.  
"A baker's apprentice from the palace kitchens might, though." Harry whispered. Louis' jaw tensed, his discomfort flaring.  
"I wouldn't let them do that in any world." He murmured with finality, the resonance echoing quietly off of the stone. Harry lifted a hand to touch his face, angling his head so that they touched softly. Louis didn't like the weight of their conversation. He knew that they were more than friends, he wasn't hiding from it. But no one else suspected anything and there was hardly anything to suspect. Just hidden touches, he knew.  
In his heart, regardless of any tied feelings, they were still friends more than anything. He didn't feel in danger of that, not yet.  
"Just pass the night with me." Louis mumbled, "We're not in danger."  
He felt him nod against his head and he backed up, pulling him along with him until his back was against the colorful glass. Harry stayed with him, breathing in his breath.  
He wanted to be free of care for tonight, and so he wrapped his arms around his neck and pecked at his mouth softly. Harry held him back, returning those conservative pecks. He smiled and pushed him back a bit, sitting down against the stone frame of the window at the floor. Harry sat with him.  
He pulled into him, their legs tangling together on the floor. It was dark, but a kind of darkness that held color. The white stone reflected the moonlight, and in front of the window Louis could see the colors on Harry's face.  
He looked for a moment, smiling breathlessly at the sight. It was like a painting, like nothing he'd seen. The way the stained glass cast beauty on his face. But that wasn't quite right either. He was so beautiful on his own and the colors were dancing with his beauty in kind.  
He touched Harry's chest, letting his fingers graze his collar. Harry's glowing eyes blinked once or twice and he let him touch at the soft cotton of his shirt, hanging low on his chest.  
Louis leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. Leaning back he guided him with his hands, Harry following him until he kissed him again with his back against the glass.  
Louis felt him sigh, making that hot warmth fly through his body again, filtered with happiness.  
Louis' front was shrouded in shadows, his hair back lit with the colored moonlight. Harry pressed close to him so that their bodies were together, doing what it took to get closer. Closer, as a matter of fact, than they had been before now. Louis felt softened, like a tamed lion, by the intimacy.  
He was pliant in his hands, in his wide hands, while Harry held onto him and opened his mouth. He was met with his tongue, not bothering to pause for a moment. This moment was pure and didn't require a thought or consideration.  
Louis tightened his arms around him and held him against his body. When he paused, looking at him, he could see the Godly room behind him. And yet he felt safe and hidden away where they were, behind the beautiful carvings in the stone railing which bracketed them into the narrow, short walk way. Where they sat was frothed and sung with gentle colors and in the chasm of the arching stone was silvery moonlight and safe shadows.  
He leaned into Harry so that he could kiss him, his beautiful skin blushed with light. He kissed him and touched him, lowering so that he could taste his neck. He felt the way his breath hitched at the new and foreign touch. They were so young and inexperienced. He kissed so softly and opened his mouth to taste, biting once.  
He sat with him, leaned against the stained glass wall, passing the night with gentle touches and kisses separated with silences or hidden mumbles.  
He thought about laying in Harry's bed with him, thought about how brilliant it would be to sleep by his side again. Once it had happened, when he was young and not expected to know how inappropriate it was to be so personally friendly to a serving boy. Just a nap in the warm, shaded area in the gardens where they had played.  
He would do it again, he knew as he smiled happily through a kiss. He would spend a night with him, and it would be brilliant once more.  
"I want to see you here in the day time again." Louis mumbled, so close he could feel his breath, their bodies cuddled together. "When the light is bright. It's so beautiful in the night but in the day, too."  
Harry smiled at him, and in his thoughts, looking at Louis, he felt warmth. And he saw a prince who loved the castle he'd grown up in, and the city around it. He saw a bright eyed royal, who wasn't afraid of the state and who's world was both so small and would be so big. Too big. But as big as someone like him deserved. He saw a prince in him, but just as clearly saw a teenager who was too purely himself to be seen as anything but Louis. He just saw his friend.  
And in the love he saw in his cobalt eyes for this beautiful castle, he wondered how he would grow to see it when it proved to hold people who wouldn't accept them. He didn't know. But he envisioned a growing prince who would be resistant to forsake it, his home or his friendship. It was a peculiar thing. And Harry felt that his eyes could look forever on him and not see all that there was shown.  
"We've been here plenty of times in the day." He mumbled. They'd spent most of their childhood in this castle and although it was a big one, they'd been to most of it.  
"Well... again." Louis shrugged, laughing quietly. "And we should go for another ride together, in the forest. I'd like that." Sometimes they took rides together or Louis would get out of work for hunting trips, which Harry didn't like to hurt the animals.  
Harry leaned his shoulder against the wall and lowered his head to Louis' shoulder, smiling softly. He thought about the duties that were growing on Louis, the knight's training and the matters of state that he was growing into as responsibilities. His time was becoming a divided thing. There were only so many nights of sleep he could miss to meet him when they wanted to be more than friends without interruption, for long.  
He didn't know if he wanted to see his prince with tired eyes during the day, however content from their nights they may be.  
He didn't say anything, because for now Louis was still young and time was still available to them.  
Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't break the childish content that flowed from him in the loving touches and kisses they exchanged.  
Louis looked at him for a long time, lifting his head from his shoulder and touching his cheek so softly. Harry felt too old in his skin. He felt like he could see too much. He could see his love and how wildly, impossibly courageous that he was with it. And he could see the long path of adversity that this heavy kingship would place against them. For stolen, secret kisses in moments of privacy may not be enough for them to hold an entire love on their shoulders when an entire bloodline of royalty was going to rest on Louis' shoulders heavier as they grew. He didn't know how long it would take for him to start feeling the weight of it.  
And yet he still could see the vitality in his loving, brave heart.  
So he kissed him, and behind his eyes he saw their boyhood and everything simple and light about it. He saw friendship and Louis.  
He tried to quiet his thoughts, and with his lips he found that he could. They passed the night in the glorious, beautiful castle under the eyes of centuries of kings and queens.  
Just them and the moon.


End file.
